Originally, I disliked facing people so much that I even used the back door of our store.
Then their son suddenly came in through the front door, embraced them, and cried.
Naturally, my parents were startled out of their wits, and I had to make excuses through a cold sweat, saying that I had only done it because I was grateful.
There was a little commotion, but in the end, my parents accepted my words at face value.
Of course, saying a few words amid a crowd of people was not enough.
Not for me, nor for my parents.
So my parents proudly closed the store early that day.
As we ate dinner together, I conveyed my gratitude and my apology.
Along with a promise that I would live proudly from then on.
And now, late that night,
I sat in my room on the second floor, pondering what had happened to me.
'Is this real?'
The memories of another me who had lived to seventy and been called the Sword Saint had come to me.
My personality might have been twisted, but I had never been one to fall into delusions.
Naturally, the right thing to think was that the Sword Saint's life had been one hell of a stupid dream I had had after Andrea beat me up.
"It's definitely uncomfortable."
I got up and took the Plow Stance I usually used.
Then I realized that it was not a stance suited to me.
The True Sight Stance, on the other hand, was different.
I could not make big, wide movements, but within a single step, it felt incomparably comfortable and stable.
It was certainly a stance made for me.
After comparing the two stances, I could be sure.
The memories that had come to me were not merely a stupid dream.
Having thought that far, I threw myself onto the bed.
As I sank into the soft straw beneath the bedsheet, I thought.
Getting used to a stance I had never used, facing Andrea boldly, admitting my mistake, and apologizing.
They were all things that the old me would neither do nor be able to do.
Honestly, changing that much overnight frightened me a little.
It felt as if the original me was being overwhelmed by the version of me who was the Sword Saint in those memories.
I was afraid that I might lose myself like this.
That thought lasted only a moment. I sat up and looked down.
"It never looks any better."
My left leg, far shorter than my right.
Even now, merely looking at it filled me with sorrow and pain.
But the Sword Saint had said, in his final moments, that a leg like that did not matter. That it was not the reason for his unhappiness.
He had also said that he had not understood it when he was young, and only realized it before he died.
'I don't know.'
Even knowing that, I did not know.
I was not Johan, the lame man who had nevertheless become great. I was sixteen-year-old Johan, who had only just stepped out of his room.
At least, the Johan I was now could not possibly love this wretched leg of mine.
Part of me found that pathetic, but it was not wholly bad.
This inferiority complex told me, as I was being colored by the Sword Saint's magnificent memories,
You are not the Sword Saint. You are still sixteen-year-old Johan, who has not yet been able to let go of anything.
Somewhat relieved by that, I stared quietly at the ceiling and murmured.
"You must live your spring...."
Still, the words the Sword Saint had left me rang deeply in my heart.
I understood that he was telling me not to walk the same path, a path filled only with regret.
To do that, I would have to make the most of this time, while my parents were alive and my bonds with other people had not been severed.
But how was I supposed to live well?
Tilting my head, I suddenly stretched my legs straight out in front of me.
Set side by side, my left leg stood out, a whole handspan shorter than my right.
This was the source of my inferiority complex, the thing that distinguished me from the Sword Saint.
I wanted to fix it.
I wanted to love my body too.
This feeling was like a brand stamped onto my soul. It could not change overnight.
But if I wanted something, I had to find my own path.
'An adventurer, then.'
Like the Sword Saint had done, I decided to become an adventurer and search for a way to fix this leg.
Even the Sword Saint had failed at it, but what did that matter?
The Sword Saint had not searched every mystery in the whole world.
So somewhere, there had to be a mystery that could fix my leg too.
I believed that.
"Although there are things I have to do first."
Having thought that far, I murmured with a face gone hard.
There was a muddled stretch in the Sword Saint's memories.
The time when he had been driven mad by resentment and battered by reality, unable to look after himself or those around him.
The cause was clear.
One year from now, my parents would die.
They would be caught in the conflict between the criminal organizations that divided the port city of Raechia in two.
I knew that, but I had no intention of losing my parents.
Yet I was still far too weak to do anything about it right away.
Just because the Sword Saint's memories had come to me did not mean I had become the Sword Saint.
Right now, I was merely a boy with the Sword Saint's memories, a boy who could become the Sword Saint.
That was all.
Still, it was enough.
"One year is more than enough."
They said that the same situation could feel different depending on one's state of mind.
Until that morning, I had felt abandoned by the world.
I had hated myself for being a burden to my parents, and hated the disability that made me that way.
Yet now I was calmly thinking about the future.
Enjoying the mystery of the human heart, I made plans for what lay ahead.
Then I drifted off to sleep.
Intoxicated by the comforting scent of home.
***
"Be careful out there! If anything happens, make sure to tell us!"
"Don't worry! I'll be back!"
The next morning, after breakfast, I received my parents' send-off.
They seemed bewildered by the suddenly changed me, but they soon adapted.
They said that children my age changed completely if you did not see them for three days.
Thanks to that, I happily left home and headed toward the swordsmanship dojo.
Taking in the homeland the old swordsman had longed for all his life, wherever I went.
"What are you grinning about? Does the world look beautiful because you knocked me down?"
After I had limped along for some time, a little slowly and a little unsteadily, Andrea appeared from one side of an alley and grumbled for no reason.
Unlike yesterday, I did not shrink back. I smiled at him.
"Yeah, it's good. Really good."
"What did you say, bastard?"
"I said I'm happy because I made a friend."
"Who beats a friend up like that?"
"You hit me first."
I walked along, bickering with him.
It was surely the same road as yesterday, yet it felt entirely different.
I was just giving a small smile because that was both strange and pleasant when,
a high, sharp voice rang out from the other side.
"Hey, Andrea! I told you not to bother Johan!"
"What are you talking about? Who's bothering him? This bastard is bothering me. And are you a parrot? Why are you saying the same thing today that you said yesterday?"
Anna was the daughter of our swordsmanship dojo's owner and master.
Andrea, the heir to one of the huge criminal organizations that divided the city in two, clumsily looked after an isolated trainee. Anna, for her part, was always kind and caring.
In the end, they were both good people.
Their personalities and methods were so different that it was ordinary for them to clash at every turn.
Was it because of the old Sword Saint's memories?
For some reason, even the sight of those innocent young people arguing looked good to me. Instead of stopping them, I watched with a pleased smile.
Then they stopped fighting, looked at me at the same time, and shouted.
"Why are you staring like a pervert again, idiot?"
"I-I started to think this yesterday, but are you really all right? You've changed so suddenly that I'm worried."
The two reacted in accordance with their respective personalities.
The clear contrast was so funny that I burst out laughing.
"Hahaha!"
Their reactions were not unusual.
It was natural to find it strange when a boy who used to do nothing but scurry into corners like a cockroach changed this much.
I understood them, but waved my hands.
"I'm fine, so don't worry. I just changed my mind."
"Huh?"
"Life depends on how you choose to see it."
Leaving the two of them blankly staring after that abrupt remark, I walked ahead.
"Isn't it nice? Just by changing my mind, I made friends too."
"Who says I'm your friend!"
"You."
"No, I'm not! You're my enemy!"
"Even enemies can become friends."
I said it while thinking of the Sword Saint and the Mercenary King, who had shared each other's final moments.
Andrea wore a blank look, as if the thought had never occurred to him.
Having grown up in an environment where ally and enemy were clearly divided, his mind had probably become complicated.
Leaving him alone, I turned my head to Anna, whose expression was just as blank as Andrea's, and asked with a smile.
"We're friends, right?"
"Huh? Right! We're friends! I always thought so!"
This time, it was my turn to look a little bitter.
Anna's answer was sincere, but she was still young.
She did not know that compassion and pity could sometimes hurt more than contempt.
She treated me differently.
She would try to excuse me from hard training and sparring, and she sought me out more often.
Though she was my age, she acted like an older sister or a mother.
That was a guardian, not a friend.
Friendship could only exist when the two people stood at eye level as equals.
To the old me, her consideration had felt like an unspoken statement: You are a cripple, so you cannot do what others can.
It had even felt like hypocrisy—a way to get drunk on the thought, ‘I am kind,’ and, ‘I am superior to you.’
Not anymore.
I could now accept Anna's kindness as kindness, even while worrying over her naïveté.
So I could be the first to hold out my hand like this.
"Let's hurry. At this rate, we'll be late."
"Huh? Aaaah! Not we'll be late—we already are late!"
"That can happen when you live."
"My situation is different from yours! I have to set an example!"
"An example, my ass. You do nothing but run wild like a colt."
"Do you want to die? That's you!"
As we stopped to bicker, the bell in the church tower began to ring.
At the sound announcing the beginning of class, Anna and Andrea hurriedly started running, but stopped after only a short distance.
Then, without either one speaking first, they turned back and looked at me apologetically.
I casually waved my hand, telling them to go on ahead, but they sighed and finally came back.
"Forget it. We're late anyway, so I'll just take it easy."
"Um... because you shouldn't abandon a friend."
It might have been nothing much, but I was quite moved.
Enough to immediately put an arm around each of their shoulders.
"Hey! Take your hand off, idiot!"
"What's wrong with friends putting their arms around each other's shoulders?"
"We're not friends!"
"We're still close, aren't we? And be a little considerate, hey. My leg is uncomfortable."
"Ugh, I can't even hit you for this...."
Unlike Andrea, who was having a fit, Anna grinned.
As if she found it amusing to see Andrea at a loss.
"Why are you making such a fuss over linking arms? You should just cut your dick off."
"Are you insane? Hey, watch your mouth! What kind of girl talks like my uncles?"
"What's the big deal? Your mind is so narrow that it feels strange to you."
"It isn't!"
"Hahaha! That's fun. Keep going."
We headed for the dojo, bickering noisily.
Even as I laughed and chatted, I took in the scenery around me.
Petals scattered like snow from the cherry trees in full bloom that lined the side of the canal.
The people passing through the flurries of flower snow were dressed as finely as they could be.
The flowing hems of the peninsula's distinctive robes and its black traditional hats.
There was a tidy beauty that could not be found anywhere else on the continent.
Of course, it had been the same view yesterday.
But if it felt different, that was probably because—
"What is it, are you hurt? You were walking just fine. Why have you slowed down like a grub?"
"You need to watch your mouth! Johan, if your leg hurts, do you want me to carry you on my back?"
"You're a girl! Act more decorously! Why would you carry him?"
"It isn't any of your business. If you're going to talk like an old man, shut up!"
Because I had people walking with me.
I smiled at the two who had already started bickering again.
Then I made a playful joke.
"Isn't he saying that because it is his business?"
"What?"
"Isn't Andrea in love with you?"
Their reaction to the lightly tossed joke was explosive.
Anna jumped in alarm, while Andrea ground his teeth.
"Her? With me?"
"Are you insane? Or did I hit you too hard yesterday?"
"You could just say you aren't. Why are you so serious about it? Could it be?"
"Aaaah!"
When I teased them one more time for no reason, they even screamed.
I stopped because I thought I might really get hit if I kept teasing them.
"I know you aren't, so let's go. We're already late, but we'd feel bad if we were too late, right?"
Andrea and Anna came to their senses. Still bickering, they walked briskly.
Even then, they did not run for my sake, and I diligently followed them. Before long, we arrived at the dojo.
Then we faced our master, who was looking at us with stern eyes.
"You're late."
The first crisis I faced after gaining the Sword Saint's memories.
With cold sweat running down my back, a difficult day began.